Vulnerability
by atonalremix
Summary: Normally, Bonnie would've pushed Damon out of her way. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered acknowledging his presence. Normally, she wouldn't show any signs of weakness, but her newfound status as the Anchor kinda threw a wrench in that plan. (Bamon, implied Beremy, past Delena; spoilers for 5x15 and 5x16!)


**Author's Note**

Hilariously, this was initially written for Valentine's Day! However, because life got busy and things got pushed on the backburner, I didn't exactly get a chance to finish this until now. Mainly inspired by some meta about Damon oh-so-conveniently cockblocking every guy Bonnie ever dates, I figured it was high-time Bonnie pointed it out to him. :')

As for the timeline on this fic, I want to say it's around 5x15 – 5x16? (As thus, it has spoilers up to those episodes regarding Damon's relationship, Damon's vampire status, and the like. Please keep that in mind before you read!)

* * *

Just once, Bonnie wanted a nice, peaceful weekend with her boyfriend. The universe must've seen her as their favorite plaything, because most of her dates had been ruined by the sudden deaths of vampires, witches, and werewolves. She had spent the rest of those evenings curled up under the covers, clutching her stomach as she tried to withstand the throbbing, intensifying pain that pulsed through her veins. Damon, Klaus, or some vampire king in New Orleans (Mar-something? Marcus?) would inevitably go on some killing spree, and she hated them just a little bit more each time. Every single one of their tiffs just had to end with mindless mayhem, and as usual, she had to carry their fallen pawns.

No matter how much she hated their mindless bloodshed, she could never bring herself to fight back. Revenge wasn't exactly her imodus operandi/i. She knew better, even after her experimentation with Expression magic. If she could live peacefully, solely existing one day at a time, maybe she could discover how to lessen the pain. Bonnie would never forget the haunted, dulled expression in Amara's eyes, or the listless manner in which Elena's ancestor had moved. If Bonnie weren't careful, she would soon lose all of her spark. She'd lost enough. She couldn't lose her hope – or else, she would have really lost everything.

In the meantime, she maintained a healthy distance from everyone else. Stefan, Elena, and Caroline were much too preoccupied with doppelganger drama and vampire attacks, while Tyler and Matt had rightfully assumed she was busy with schoolwork. Jeremy, however, was so much harder to avoid. She just couldn't distance herself from her favorite Gilbert (no offense to Elena). He had comforted Bonnie through the brunt of her pain, brewing her cups of vervain tea or simply lying in bed with her the whole night when she had suffered from another nightmare.

He never complained, even though most boys would've rather satisfied their physical urges. Instead, he just held her, letting her rest on his chest to listen to his heart rise and fall. All of her effort in bringing him back – every single ounce of pain- had been worth it, and she figured, if he could cope with her chaos, she might as well let him in. Plus, the more Bonnie focused on Jeremy, the better his schoolwork had gotten.

As a reward for finishing his last college application, Bonnie decided to seize her own destiny and give herself a peaceful weekend with Jeremy. She drove home to Mystic Falls – specifically to Jeremy and the Salvatore Manor - and snuggled with him the entire day. Stefan had welcomed her later in the evening with open arms and Chinese take-out, but even he could sense when "the lovebirds" wanted some alone time.

Stefan dangled his spare car keys in Jeremy's face. "Go already! Grab some ice cream or something. I promise, I'll be here when you get back."

"When in Rome…" Bonnie said, unable to mitigate the laughter in her voice. "Come on, we might as well, right?"

Jeremy had never been one to argue with her – or Stefan, when he was feeling especially charitable. Taking the keys, Jeremy drove her to the ice cream store near the town square – it was the only one around – before sneaking in a kiss underneath the store's awning. Bonnie stood on her tip-toes, allowing herself the pleasure of the moment. She was alive (kinda), her boyfriend was alive (again), and they had the whole house to themselves for the weekend. As long as they didn't ruin Damon's favorite Persian rug, it would be-

"Couldn't get a room?"

It would be hideous if their spectator couldn't take a hint. Bonnie reluctantly let go and turned her head to see one (incredibly annoyed) Damon Salvatore. Wasn't he supposed to be out of town? Even when he looked exhausted – no doubt from running between here and Whitmore every five seconds – he managed to interrupt her at the worst possible moments.

Damon folded his arms, raising an eyebrow coolly at them both. Bonnie couldn't help staring at the shopping bag dangling from his forearm – besides cheap bourbon (no doubt to tide him over until his next shipment), he had bought some herbs, some chicken breasts, radishes (one of her favorites!), and other vegetables. She furrowed her brow. Damon didn't exactly need to cook, considering he subsisted on a diet of human blood. So why…?

Jeremy groaned. "What're you doing? I thought you didn't need groceries."

"But you do." Damon raised an eyebrow, his stance only growing more guarded. "Elena put me in charge of you, remember?" Bonnie must've been gawking at his bags, because he protectively stood aside, preventing her from seeing the contents further.

Jeremy stared at him blankly. "You couldn't have texted me for that? I could've gotten it myself."

"Like I had any idea you'd be here."

"I didn't think you were in town!" Jeremy exasperatedly threw his arms up in the air, almost knocking over poor Bonnie. "Stefan's been better at this parenting thing lately!"

Surely Damon was interested in more than just groceries. As much as he loved cleaning, Damon wasn't particularly domestic. He cooked only when he wanted something out of someone, and not for the sake of cooking itself. ("Stefan helps me with cooking more," Jeremy had admitted once, in-between study sessions, "Damon only sticks around when he's convinced I screwed up.") Damon specifically wanted to talk to them, and if buying cheap booze and groceries was the way to approach them, then so be it. A centuries-old vampire just wouldn't stop by the local supermarket for booze – unless he was desperate. Maybe his break-up with Elena had affected him worse than everyone thought.

Bonnie's gaze didn't waver from him. "That's not why you're here."

A slow smile crossed Damon's face. "Quick on the uptake, I see." He leaned ever-so-casually against the wall, surveying the ice cream store. "If you two are done playing house-"

"_Playing house?_" Maybe she shouldn't have raised her voice like that. Maybe she shouldn't have folded her arms and stared Damon down as if he'd just told her to go to hell. Before she could fully rein in her emotions, she found herself walking dangerously close to him. Sure, she had lost her magic. She couldn't hex him into oblivion – and even if she could, it wasn't part of her MO anymore. "Are you done judging my love life?"

Damon coolly raised both eyebrows. "Did I say I was judging him?"

"You didn't need to." Not with how often he sneered at Jeremy. For God's sake, Damon killed him! Twice! Jeremy might as well have been wearing a neon sign that said 'Damon Salvatore will never like me.' To be fair, the feeling was wholly mutual. "If you're going to judge my love life, then by God, maybe you should tell me who I should date."

Jeremy let out a half-appalled, half-amused squawk.

Honestly, Bonnie wasn't sure _where_ she had acquired this newfound source of rage. Was it the anger at not being able to do something normal for one weekend? (Her summer on the Other Side didn't count.)

Damon clicked his tongue, inevitably about to chide her about her life and her choices, but after a few uncharacteristic seconds of silence, his smirk had disappeared. "Why the hell should I know?"

Bonnie glared at him. "I don't know! Maybe because you have this sick obsession with interrupting me every time?"

Once or twice, maybe she could let it slide. Sometimes the fate of the world took priority. Thing was, Damon always found the absolute worst moment to announce the latest apocalypse. Just when things were getting good - whether it was with Luka, Jaime, or even Jeremy – he'd swoop in with that stupid smirk of his and insist that he needed her for something more important. While his matters usually mattered more, it was the principle of the matter! Just once, she'd like an intimate night alone with her boyfriend. If this stupid Salvatore got it every now and then, there was absolutely no reason she could take a night off either.

Jeremy stifled a groan, putting both hands on his hips. "Dude, you're acting more like the jealous boyfriend here. Give it a rest."

Damon rolled his eyes, turning away from her and Jeremy. "If I cared, maybe. Time's ticking, Judgey. I kinda need you for some of that Anchor magic I hear you're so good at."

Anchor magic…? Why would Damon possibly need that? Identifying some grisly victim of the week that Damon's new friend killed? Bonnie looked helplessly to Jeremy, who could only shrug in response.

"What if she doesn't want to go with you?" Jeremy dared to ask, stepping forward and puffing his chest out. "We have plans."

"Plans can be changed. This can't." Damon tapped his foot impatiently. "Are we going already? Or do I have to buy baby Gilbert a sugar cone?"

Bonnie didn't move. "You didn't answer my question."

Damon's foot started tapping even more quickly. "Can it wait?"

"No, it really can't." If he had the audacity to make that completely baseless statement, then he also had the ability to wait just five more seconds for her. Respecting Jeremy would have earned him her immediate attention! What was Elena thinking when she had given Damon legal control over him? "Though I could forget about it for a moment if you buy us sugar cones."

"Please tell me you're kidding." Damon groaned, watching as Jeremy opened the door for them.

"Nope." Jeremy grinned cheekily. "Buy us the ice cream, and she's all yours for the evening."

* * *

Somehow, they'd gotten Damon to pay not only for Jeremy's chocolate coated waffle cone, but also a cup of Bonnie's favorite mint chocolate chip ice cream. (If it weren't for Damon's scowl, Bonnie would've taken a cone too!) Damon had tapped his fingers impatiently against the counter the whole time, dragging Bonnie out by the arm the second she had her elusive scoop. Just before they headed out the front door, Bonnie mouthed, 'we'll catch up later' to her boyfriend. Excuses were excuses and she knew it, but the more Damon interfered, the more she suspected that he couldn't do a damn thing on his own.

Once they'd left the building, Damon slowed his pace down enough so that she could walk beside him and eat. "Seriously? You wanted ice cream that badly?"

"It's portable! Might I remind you, you decided to interrupt my date," she pointed out, releasing herself from his grasp so that she could finish off her ice cream. "Plus you kind of keep judging my love life. Maybe _I'm_ not the judgey one here."

"That's ridiculous." When he smiled manically at her, with his lips reaching both sides of his face, she wanted to wipe that damn smirk off. If she still had her connection to nature, she would have given him another aneurism. He would've deserved it.

"Then what? You already got your new witch."

"You mean Liv?" Damon shrugged casually, turning his gaze back towards the road ahead – and his car waiting for them at the end. "If I needed a witch this time, sure."

She stared blankly at him mid-bite. "Then what do you need me for?"

Surely he didn't interrupt her romantic weekend just for them to play Bones or CSI or whatever those police procedurals were. She really didn't have time for his stupid games – even if they were technically going back to the same home after it ended.

Just as Damon pulled out his car keys, Bonnie could only stare helplessly at the teenage girl staring before them, at the anger flashing through her eyes. With only a single word passing through her lips, 'Klaus,' she passed straight through Bonnie.

Bonnie dropped her ice cream onto the grass, screaming as she clutched her stomach again. Not now! Dear god, why now! Why in front of stupid _Damon_ who already thinks she's enough of a nutcase? He would just abandon her because of her screams, and he could go find someone else and—and he was hovering protectively over her, standing way too close to her for comfort. Normally, she would've pushed him out of her way. Normally, she wouldn't have bothered acknowledging his presence. Normally… normally, she wouldn't show this vulnerability in front of him, because she wouldn't have had to deal with this searing pain.

"Bonnie!" He brushed the hair out of her eyes, studying her for anything remotely out of the ordinary. "What happened?" His knuckles were white as he brushed them against her cheek. "I didn't bring you back to life only to-"

He went to all that effort, just for her? He had repeatedly insisted that his effort was only for Elena's sake – but right now, the tension in his muscles spoke for him. Damon had actually wanted her to live, regardless of all of their fights. Considering Bonnie was still pissed about his behavior towards Jeremy, a proper thank you would have to wait. Inhaling sharply, she attempted to ignore his touch. "I'm okay."

"Like hell you are!" His knuckles grew even paler, as he tightened his fists and pressed against her cheek just that much tighter. "You're breathing way too fast, your face's too pale, and I can hear your heart almost ripping out of your lung cage. You're not fine."

She gritted her teeth, sidestepping him – and nearly tripping over the road sign beside her. "I'm gonna be okay. Nothing I'm not used to."

Jeremy never questioned her pain. He just massaged her shoulders, brought her extra heating pads and recited extra prayers with her. Couldn't Damon take a leaf out of her boyfriend's book? Support her through the pain, and not go accusing her of lying about it?

"It's happened more than once?" Anger started to color Damon's voice as he protectively scooped her into his arms. She wanted to protest but her muscles were just too weak. "And neither you nor Jeremy thought to bring this up to any of us? No 'Hey guys, guess what, I'm in pain a lot for no apparent rea-'"

"Don't worry about it! It's just cramps, okay?"

He almost dropped her. Almost, because Damon shifted his weight, balancing her with his usual superhuman grace. Furrowing his brow intently, he loosened his grip on her. "Don't lie to me like that."

"It's not a—"

"I don't smell blood on you." Damon snorted as he set her in the passenger seat. "Trust me, I'd know."

Dammit. The one time she attempted to lie to him, he figured her out in less than a heartbeat. She wasn't normally so easy to read, especially not around the one person she had once hated the most. Somehow, over the years, Damon had morphed from 'idiot' to 'tolerable' and she wasn't quite sure where – and when – that line had been crossed.

"Where are we going, anyways?" She asked, muffling a yawn as she watched him climb in and start the engine. "Can you at least answer that question?"

"You'll see." Damon tossed his grocery bag in the backseat, not bothering to see where it landed. "But first, we should probably drop this off. Wouldn't want Jeremy's food to get cold, would we?"

Since when did Damon care about Jeremy's comfort? This was the guy that had just recently ordered his old best friend to strangle her boyfriend. If he had made some noise about the rising food prices, she wouldn't have noticed. Plus…

"Jeremy doesn't even like radishes," she said softly, tapping her chin lightly. It was one of her favorites, actually. Traditionally, her boyfriend would discreetly hand her every single last one underneath the dinner table. Damon must be a terrible legal guardian if he hadn't even noticed that!

Her skepticism (and blatant confusion) must've been more obvious than she thought, because Damon just scoffed under his breath before revving up the engine. Bonnie knew she had just returned to the land of the living, but she had anticipated on staying here just a little bit longer.

* * *

Once they'd dropped off the groceries, Damon had surprised her with an impromptu visit to the old church ruins. At this time of night, those ruins were only populated by drunk partygoers on their way home. Some other family had taken up the reins since Tyler graduated, and neither Bonnie nor Damon were particularly keen on interrupting the shenanigans. They waited until most of the kids had left before they climbed out of the car.

"You brought me to the old church ruins." With Damon, Bonnie had no shortage of questions. They hadn't been here in a long time – since maybe her junior year of high school? – and yet, as she stepped forward, it felt almost like yesterday as her memories filled in the gaps. She never thought she'd long for the days where Damon was the biggest threat she had to worry about.

"Better you than Jeremy, right? He doesn't exactly have your connection to the Other Side." Damon paused, tapping his flashlight against his knee, ignoring how the light hit the floor instead of the path ahead of them. "Not that I'm particularly sure what an Anchor does anyways."

It wasn't as if Bonnie had a manual either. She just knew when she inherited the title, she also inherited all of Amara's pain with each passing supernatural death. Considering that people like Damon loved violence, the pain only increased with time.

She shrugged at him. "So what do you need me to do?"

"You see, I have this little problem…" Damon snapped his fingers, gesturing towards the tombstone where Emily once lay. "I need to ask your witch-y ancestor something, but she's not exactly fond of me at the moment."

"And you want me to talk to her because you think I'd do a better job than Jeremy?"

"You are her descendant." Damon had a point. Unless Jeremy was specifically connected towards someone, he had a difficult time connecting to their spirit, whereas she could freely communicate with the Other Side. Sometimes, she hated that he did his research – especially where she was concerned.

"What's in this for me, Damon?"

"Glad you asked." He smirked wildly, pulling one of the party stragglers towards them. Ignoring the tremors and nervous shaking of her arms and legs, he then gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "You remember how hungry I get these days, right? Relay the message to Emily, or I just might have a midnight snack or two."

Using someone else's life as leverage? Again? Had he learned nothing in the past two and a half years? She narrowed her eyes at him, wishing not for the first time that she could simply set him on fire again. As the Anchor, she was utterly helpless to act upon her desires. The thought shook her more than she wanted to admit to this loser.

Damon's eyes glimmered in the darkness, with a sinister aura she wished she didn't recognize so well. "Tick-tock, Bonbon." He held out a piece of paper, with scribbles that were (assumingly) his messy scrawl.

"You're going to feed off some poor innocent girl if I don't do this?"

"Innocent vampire girl," Damon corrected gently, feeling for a pulse on the girl's neck. "But you know, same idea."

Right, Damon had that Augustine virus in him. He had grown so utterly predictable by now, seizing some poor soul and bartering for Bonnie's services in exchange for that poor soul's life. If she weren't such a sucker, she would've learned how to negotiate better. She certainly didn't want another bloodstain on Damon's hands.

Bonnie's hands started to tremble as she scanned Damon's handwriting. There was no earthly way Emily could have encountered a virus like Augustine, so Damon was bordering on crazy and—and his note had absolutely nothing to do with his condition. In one simple sentence, he had asked if he had fulfilled his promise.

What promise? The promise to keep her bloodline safe? Because right now, Bonnie didn't think he was doing a great job of it. Thanks to him, the Bennett line had been effectively ended in Mystic Falls. Maybe if he ventured elsewhere – she had a Canadian cousin in Whitechapel – he would have had more incentive to keep his word.

She sat down cross-legged, inhaling sharply and trying to feel for her ancestor's presence. This wasn't magic, where she had to recite a spell and hope for the best; no, this was pure communication with the Other Side. If someone had seen Emily, they would surely relay the information back to Bonnie.

Damon tapped his foot impatiently in the background, just as the vampire girl in his arms squirmed.

"I'm trying," Bonnie growled, opening one eye lazily to see him. "Give it some time!"

"Can't exactly afford to sit around and wait." He retorted, squeezing the poor vampire's arm. "Try harder."

For someone who had eternity, he sure didn't have a lot of patience. Bonnie mentally sighed and resumed her search. One lone spirit appeared to her. She was a teenage girl – no older than sixteen – with wavy dark hair and solemn eyes that didn't suit her youthful dress.

"I'm sorry I don't know who you're looking for," she said quietly, with a sad smile that also didn't suit her. "But it looks like he fulfilled his promise to me." As she walked straight into the Anchor's heart, the girl disappeared onto the Other Side.

Bonnie faltered. She couldn't show weakness in front of Damon – not when he was this close to eating someone! – and yet this hurt worse than the usual deaths. This girl had immense power, almost as much as Grams did.

"Well?" Damon's impatient voice called.

"Damon, I—"

"Time's up." He snapped the girl's neck, before carefully holding her up and sinking his teeth directly into her carotenoid artery.

"Damon!" Dammit, if he had just given her five more seconds, one more girl could have survived! Emily could have shown up any second!

Focusing his energy on sucking his meal dry to the bone, Damon gulped blood eagerly. With each passing second, she could see the veins on his face pulse with blood as he consumed all the blood from his latest victim. Bonnie braced herself, closing her eyes so that she wouldn't have to see this poor vampire on the Other Side.

She still felt a light tap on her shoulder. Briefly opening her eyes, Bonnie saw the girl smiling ruefully before her.

"You tried," the young vampire said softly, stepping through Bonnie and creating yet another ripple.

Bonnie couldn't control her scream. She fell to the ground, curling up in a ball as Damon ripped through another meal and-

"Bonnie!" He was hovering again. She could feel the blood dripping from his cheeks and onto her skin as he knelt down and inspected her face. "Bonnie? Come on, Bonbon…"

She recoiled from his touch. "Get away from me!"

He winced, pulling his hand back and subconsciously licking stray drops of blood from it. "What's happening?"

"E-everytime someone with supernatural powers dies, they pass straight through me." Bonnie inhaled sharply, staring down at her stomach and focusing on the intricate pattern of her blouse. "They pass straight through me, and it hurts like a _bitch_, Damon."

She was greeted with silence. For a second, she thought Damon had left her side, until he slowly spoke, "… so when I drank from that girl…"

"Yeah."

"_Shit_."

She couldn't help her laughter. She honestly couldn't!

Damon stared at her quizzically. "What's so funny?"

"It's not! It's just, the way you said that…" She muffed her laughter unsuccessfully with her hand. "I could've sworn you were actually concerned for a second." Like he actually cared about anyone in this town that wasn't Elena Gilbert. Even Stefan got the cold shoulder if he displeased Damon, and Stefan was related to this guy by blood!

"Do you always have to be such a martyr? You just had to wait to tell me that every time I kill someone, you feel their pain too." Damon curled his lips downward, intently surveying Bonnie as he sat down across from her. He wouldn't actually say it but every single gesture shouted his concern to the rooftops. That bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Damon usually lived to torture her, to metaphorically pull on her hair and insist that she was the one in the wrong.

So when he said nothing, when he just stared through her as if she were a ghost, it hurt her almost as much as his last meal had.

Damon brusquely turned his gaze away, looking towards the tombs around them. "Emily made me promise I'd keep your bloodline alive, Bonnie. I kinda ruined it when you died and…" And when he turned Abby into an immortal vampire.

Bonnie shot him a look. "I'm not the end of the Bennett line. I've got cousins."

Damon shrugged casually. "They're Canadian. Nothing on this scale would ever happen to them." He paused. "Though you should really speak to your cousin Sarah. She's a little _too_ obsessed with crappy vampire shows."

Bonnie snorted. If Sarah's terrible taste in television was the worst of her troubles, then Sarah was one incredibly lucky girl. Grams had mentioned something before she died, about Damon indirectly protecting the Bennett line and ensuring its survival, but she had always assumed that Damon performed his duties when the mood struck him. Considering he knew her Canadian cousins by name, maybe he had been a better guardian than she thought. "I'll try to remember next time, when she's not driving me crazy with that Dusk marathon."

"At least introduce her to Collapsing Chaos or something." Just when she thought Damon was going to let the whole thing drop, he had to ask, "Why didn't you tell us? About the nasty side-effects that came with being an Anchor?"

Because until Qetsiyah had told her, she honestly had no idea. She thought she had successfully found a loophole in existing both in this world and the Other Side! She should have remembered: magic always has a price, and everything has a balance. In order for the Other Side to exist, there had to be something – or someone – holding the Anchor. As things were, it was easier to pretend everything was fine, rather than to bring up her troubles.

"The time wasn't right."

"The time's never going to be right." Damon snorted, almost in an exasperated manner as he rose to his feet. "The world's always going to end, and someone's going to want to kill Elena, and I'm pretty sure Jeremy's going to die in some spectacular fashion twice a year, but there is _never_ going to be that peaceful moment you're thinking of, so it's just better to make the grand confession and get it over with."

"Damon!"

"What? I'm not wrong."

No, but he wasn't exactly right either. She should have theoretically told all of them months ago, but she also knew that if she had, she would have had to face reality. She would've had to admit that being the Anchor sucked, and all she wanted right now was to get her magic back where it belonged. Bonnie wasn't anywhere near strong enough to admit her weakness, especially not to Damon Salvatore. He was scaring her enough with all of his newfound genuine concern.

"Do you want me to try and contact Emily again?"

"Not tonight. I doubt she's anywhere in the area." Damon turned towards where he'd parked the car. "You know Emily Bennett. No matter how much I want something done tonight, that damn bitch tends to run on her own schedule."

That she did. Bonnie smothered a smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Since you can't be persuaded into helping, I'm sure Jer-" He paused. "What? You actually want to come? Of your own free will?"

"Why not? You can't exactly eat me right now." She had meant it as a joke, but Damon's shoulders tensed quickly enough for her to change the subject. "Err, I mean, I'm sure Jeremy and I don't have plans tomorrow. I can do it right after I finish my Anthropology readings."

"Sure I'm not interrupting your important date?" Even though he was smirking as usual, there was something different in his eyes – hope? – that Bonnie had never seen in him before. It suited him, much more than his typical arrogance ever had.

"Very sure." She shivered, rubbing her elbows together.

Damon took one look at her before he said, "We're going home," and headed off in the distance.

Just before she followed Damon back, she could see the faint silhouette of a spirit watching her in the distance. Calmly and gracefully, it floated towards her, revealing Emily Bennett's smiling face as she reached for her descendant's hands and intertwined her fingers in Bonnie's.

"I hear you've been trying to contact me?"

"Uh, yeah." Bonnie stared at her, sure her eyes were bulging out of her face at this point. "Damon had a thing-"

"Damon's fulfilled his promise to me," Emily said, her eyes crinkling with warmth as she observed Bonnie. "He may not think so, but from how he treats you – without ever considering to think you're a Bennett – he's free to go. My bloodline's survived."

"Bonnie?" Damon called out impatiently from the distance. "Any chance we could go this century?"

She ignored him, meeting Emily's gaze again. "I… are you sure? I should probably tell him. He's been kind of anxious about it."

Emily folded her hands in her lap. "I'm positive. If you wish to tell him, it's your prerogative." Her gaze turned towards her tombstone, and towards Damon off in the distance. "The boy doesn't fool me for a second, you know. Promise or no promise, he cares for you more than anyone else in this town. Don't you forget that."

She disappeared into the night without another word. Bonnie waited for a few more seconds before she headed for Damon's car. Emily must've not known Damon that well to blatantly accuse him of caring for someone who wasn't a Petrova doppelganger. Damon only wanted to fulfill his promise. If he had, didn't that mean that he'd no longer have to ensure her survival? The Bennett bloodline still existed in Canada, and as Damon had claimed, nothing ever happened in Whitechapel. Her cousins would live to see their grandchildren, and magic would flow through their veins in the same manner as it had once pulsed through hers.

Bonnie casually flicked her wrist, half-expecting to see the usual spark that accompanied her magic. Nothing happened. She didn't know what she expected, but another conformation of her lost powers wasn't it. As she climbed into the passenger seat, Damon shrugged nonchalantly, but the relief in his eyes were as obvious as day. Bonnie tried not to notice as she buckled her seatbelt.

The second Damon turned on the radio, blaring one of her favorite songs, she allowed her guard to drop. If they let the music talk for them, then maybe she could get home – to Jeremy – and pretend this whole night never happened.

* * *

Even at this late hour, Jeremy still wasn't in the Salvatore Manor when they returned. Strange, considering that he had professed an absolute lack of plans the entire weekend. Bonnie quizzically stared at the empty spot where Stefan's car would have been. "You think he had some last minute errands?"

"Yeah, if those last minute errands were…" Damon paused, glancing up towards the night sky.

His silence never boded well. Bonnie expected some witty remark or backhanded insult that only Damon could fully deliver, but after a few moments of awkward silence, Damon unlocked the car and climbed out. "I mean, I can't expect the kid to take care of himself."

"Uh-huh." Bonnie hated it when Damon kept secrets from her. "As long as he's not selling drugs again."

Damon shot her a mystified glance as he grabbed the grocery bags, but she pretended to ignore him as she stepped through the back door and surveyed the room. If Jeremy were still inside, he would've been reading in the den. While people often appeared in and out in the den, the den also held enough "light reading" to last several lifetimes. Considering that Stefan was lying on the couch instead, with a thick volume entitled '_Doppelgangers and You:_ _A Guide to Understanding Your Ghostly Double' _resting on his stomach, Bonnie figured they'd look elsewhere for Jeremy.

"You're back early," Stefan commented, turning a page in his book. "How'd the ice cream taste?"

"Oh, I'm sure it tasted great, baby bro," Damon laughed, licking his lower lip as he turned back towards the kitchen. "You should ask Jeremy when he gets back."

Now Stefan glanced up, almost dropping the book on the floor. "You mean he didn't come back with you? He took my car."

Figures that was Stefan's highest priority. Bonnie shrugged helplessly at him. "Damon called me for something, it got done… and I guess we thought Jeremy would come back first, but he never did."

Damon's expression soured. "Don't stay up late waiting for him." Without another word, he brushed past her and ascended the stairs.

As he vanished from her sight, Bonnie turned her gaze back towards Stefan. She had seen him engrossed in several books over the years, but he had never been so intently focused on one before. There were several notes in the margins in Stefan's handwriting, each one more frantic than the rest. Cautiously, she sat down beside him.

"Worried about Elena?" She asked softly, because why else would he be reading it?

"Not just Elena, but myself too."

"Yourself?" Bonnie remembered Silas the facestealer – how he had originated the doppelgangers in the first place – but she hadn't exactly thought Stefan was in harm's way anymore. When he became a vampire, he was supposed to be immune to doppelganger side effects. "Because of what Tessa said? You promised me you wouldn't brood."

"I'm not brooding, I'm _studying_. Two totally different things." Stefan smothered a smile as he set his book aside. "I'm concerned about the Travelers, though. They're planning something big with us – and right now, I don't feel secure in my knowledge of all things doppelganger-related. But I don't think that's why you're here, talking to me instead of your boyfriend."

He knew her better than she remembered. Bonnie shyly avoided his gaze. "Jeremy's been kind of weird lately. I was wondering if you knew anything about that, seeing as you're in charge of him most days?"

Stefan involuntarily glanced up at the ceiling. "Not… really? I haven't gotten any calls from school. Damon would know more if anything's wrong and…" He sat up, scooting a little to look at Bonnie better. "Damon knows something's wrong, doesn't he? He knows and he won't tell you?"

Bonnie didn't have to respond. Stefan leaned forward and lightly embraced her.

"Stefan, I…"

"It's okay, whatever it is." Stefan's voice sounded slightly strained – and frankly, Bonnie couldn't blame him, considering neither of them knew Jeremy's problem. "I just hope he brings back my car in one piece."

Bonnie nearly elbowed him.

"What?" Stefan chuckled, scooting to the right to avoid her wrath. "It's the truth."

The truth she really could have lived without! She let go, scooting to the other side and glancing at the stack of books Stefan had picked up. "Is Damon okay?"

"That, I don't know." Stefan pressed his lips together, his gaze following the spot where Damon had once stood. "You might want to check up on him."

Her cell phone vibrated from her inner pocket. Pulling it out, Bonnie saw a text from Jeremy immediately pop up.

_**Tyler drank himself into a stupor again. Helping Matt deal with him tonight! :( Sorry I couldn't be there with you and Damon I'll be home in time for breakfast.** _

At least it wasn't drugs. Sighing inwardly of relief, Bonnie held out her phone to Stefan. "Again?"

Stefan shrugged apologetically. "This year's been kind of rough on him too." They all had rough years, to put it lightly. For God's sake, wasn't Stefan still reeling from the repercussions of being locked inside a safe all summer? "I keep telling him he should see my therapist, but…"

"Too expensive?"

"Too lame." Stefan chuckled. "I'm gonna stay here for a while, but I hope you sleep well."

Bonnie nodded, heading towards the stairs. "Oh, and Stefan?"

He glanced up. "What's up?"

"Think you could grab some waffles for breakfast? I'm craving them pretty badly."

"Easily." He gave her a grin, before retreating back into his thick, dusty volumes.

As Bonnie ascended the stairs and towards Damon's room, she mentally braced herself for the worst mental images. Elena had regaled plenty of tales of Damon's drunken stupors and how the eldest Salvatore tended to disregard clothing the second he entered his own bedroom. Even jeans, it seemed, wasn't entirely part of his dress code.

She twisted the doorknob, only to find it locked.

"Damon?"

Silence greeted her.

"Damon, I know you can hear me." He had to, with that amazing sense of hearing. Undeterred, Bonnie lightly pressed her hand against the door. "I just… I wanted to thank you for bringing me back to life. I know you went to a lot of trouble on my behalf when you didn't have to. Especially since I've popped your brain how many times by now?" She giggled softly. "You might've done it all for Elena, but… I'm grateful you gave it your all."

The floorboards creaked as Damon moved toward the door and opened it. He stood precariously at the doorframe, with the slightest hint of hesitation on his face as he studied her. "Was that so hard?"

She squinted at him. "What?"

"All you had to say was thank you." He rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet, speaking with a levity that almost made her feel better. Almost, because Damon's emotions were volatile, and she never knew when she'd accidentally upset him. "It's been what, three months since you came back? You're pretty bad at being polite these days."

She had mainly delayed her gratitude because she had initially thanked Elena before discovering that Damon had worked harder to return Bonnie to the land of the living than anyone else in the entire town. He didn't have to, and yet he'd chosen to, giving up Katherine in the blink of an eye for her. The woman he had obsessed over for 145 years – the woman for which Grams had died – was much less important than Bonnie? Grams would have laughed if she had heard, considering how much Bonnie hated vampires on principle.

"You were waiting for that long?" Bonnie folded her arms at him, struggling to keep her focus on his face when he had oh-so-cleverly chosen to wear an open dress shirt that showcased his entire chest. "You just had to ask."

"Oh, it's more fun watching you do this out of your own free will." He leaned forward, forgetting to give Bonnie the personal space she usually craved so badly. "It was getting pretty quiet without you around, Judgey."

"I'm sure it was. See you in the morning?"

"Yeah."

Before she could walk away, Damon leaned forward and tucked stray strands behind her ear. They were impossibly close – even for Damon – and if she closed her eyes, she could smell the bourbon on his lips. Damon hovered for a millisecond longer, almost closing the distance between them and… and then he hastily staggered back, almost breaking the door in his haste to give them some space.

He must've been drunk. He must've thought she was Elena. There was absolutely no possible way that Damon Salvatore would have purposefully shown affection for anyone else in the world.

Bonnie stared at him blankly. "What was that all about?"

"I… I don't know." Damon shook his head wildly. "Forget it."

When they had first met, Damon had done the same thing with her hair, but the intent felt completely different. Two and a half years ago, he had wanted something from her, and she was dead-set on avoiding him at all costs. Now, she got the sense that even if she had said no to speaking to Emily – even if she had run for the hills – he might have not minded.

She squinted at him. "Were you going to kiss me?"

"_As if_, Judgey."

Emily's words echoed in her brain. _Promise or no promise, he cares for you more than anyone else in this town. _By effectively preventing her from having intimate relations, had he intended on also preventing the consequential heartbreak? Bonnie was standing to understand Damon's crazy leaps of logic just a little bit more.

"Uh-huh." She didn't really believe him, but Damon looked so distraught that she didn't want to accidentally press his buttons. "I'm a big girl, Damon. I can handle the truth."

"The truth? If you were a 'big girl,' you'd recognize that your boyfriend's got his priorities elsewhere," Damon responded somberly, with a sour expression that she hadn't exactly expected. Still holding onto the wall for support, he stood up slightly straighter. "If I had to tell you who to date… I'd pick someone who always puts you first. There's always a choice, right?"

"I hear my choices have been a little controversial lately." Bonnie felt her lips curling upward, and for the first time tonight, she didn't bother to hide it as she turned to leave. "So if I ended up dating this person… you'd leave us alone for once?"

"Maybe." Damon tilted his head to the side, as if seriously contemplating it. "Except no. Not really."

She snorted. "The fate of the world can't matter that much."

"More than it does on my date nights." He paused, watching as she turned to leave. "Speaking of dates… you'd better hope Jeremy comes home early enough for waffles. I just might devour the rest if I'm not careful."

Figures that he had overheard her entire conversation with Stefan. Typical Damon. Bonnie wanted to shake her head and to whine needlessly about vampires and their stupid superhearing, but she knew better. If she wanted revenge, she would have just switched out Damon's blood supply for something much less humanoid. Instead, she headed back to one of the Salvatores' multiple guest rooms and curled under the covers.

The universe may have considered her its favorite katamari, rolling her around and seeing what sorts of things stuck to her, but right now, she wasn't so sure she minded the men that had stuck beside her thick and thin. Jeremy might have bowed out on her one too many times – even if it was for a good cause – but Damon had been surprisingly great company, and maybe, just maybe, tomorrow would actually grant her a peaceful day.


End file.
